


Anniversary Gift

by agent85



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, angst and pain, these poor kids seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 01:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3339239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He comes to her door with a gift, but it's the secret he tells her that stabs her in the heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversary Gift

The sound of a knock on her door makes Simmons jump. It's late, and she's tired, but she makes herself smile as she opens the door. It could be Coulson, or May. There might be some kind of emergency. 

When the opening door reveals a nervous Fitz, she freezes.

He won't meet her gaze, and she can't help but notice that his scruff is still there, that his top button is still undone, and his fingers twitch around a small bag that he's holding. She can't help but notice that it looks like he's been crying.

She knows she should say something, but the words won't come, and eventually she hears him sigh as he raises his eyes to hers.

"Can I talk to you?"

She gives an awkward nod, then gets out of his way, eyes fixed on him as he enters her room. There's something she's supposed to be doing, but she's unable to do it. She's unable to even figure out what it is that she's not doing.

He's never been in her room before, not even before the changes that stole him from her. She came to his room every so often, but he always regarded her threshold as some magical barrier. She remembers the way he liked to stand awkwardly in the hallway of her apartment at SciOps and almost smiles.

"This . . ." Fitz stammers, "this is nice. Nice place."

She mutters a thank you, but her eyes are trained on his shaking hands, and she notices the sweat beading on his forehead.

"Anyway, I . . . uh . . . I came to . . ."

Simmons is about to finish his dangling words, but she bites her tongue and tries to keep her expression neutral. She's still making him worse, and she's not even doing anything.

"I wanted to give you this," he says, shoving the bag into her hands.

She blinks at him for a second before she feels the shape of the object inside the bag. Something hard and  . . . round? Her mind buzzes and her heart races before she realizes that it's too big to be a ring.

She lets out a breath. At least that's one less thing to worry about.

When she looks back up at him, he's pulling something out of his pocket.

"Read the card first," he directs.

She traces over his writing on the front of the envelope, the letters that spell her name. It's a little sloppier than his usual script, but it's still boxy and in caps. It's still his.

She opens the envelope and finds a slip of paper, rather than a card, which she supposes she should have expected, anyway. The Playground doesn't exactly have a gift shop. She's surprised that he managed to acquire an envelope.

Her eyes catch his, and he nods, so she opens the paper and starts reading.

_Dear Jemma,_

_Ten years ago today, I got partnered with you in chem lab. Happy tenth anniversary, Jemma._

_Fitz_

It's like she's been hit by lightning, and she keeps reading the words over and over again, though the sentiment is as clear and concise. Has it really been ten years? 

Fitz gestures to encourage her to open the bag, so she sticks her hand in, feeling something cool, metallic, and  . . . spherical?

It takes her a moment, but it clicks in her head. She pulls it out and gapes.

"How did you get this?"

She searches his face for an answer, but he merely shrugs, eyes on his shoes.

"Had a friend pick it up for me."

She knows that he means Mack, Mister Reach-Out-and-Take-It. She watches the mass inside the small metal skeleton as the parts that Fitz once called "wiggly bits" mold and reshape.

"Fitz . . ."

The gravitonium is mesmerizing, and she sees that he's watching it too, but his lips are pursed together, and she doesn't like the way they turn into a smile.

"I can't wait to read the papers you write on this," he says.

She freezes. 

"What?"

When she makes eye contact, he pulls away, like she's caught him in a secret.

"Read the back," he mumbles.

"Hmm?"

"The back of the card."

She's almost forgotten about the note, but the gravitonium is abandoned in the bag as she fumbles for the back of the page. She reads the words three times over and she still doesn't believe it.

"You're leaving?"

Her words come out like an accusation, and she wishes she could take them back the moment she sees Fitz deflate. She reads the words over and over again, unable to keep looking at him.

"Stark offered me a job." His voice is so low that it's almost a whisper. 

"Stark just offered you a job at random, or he offered you a job because you applied for it?"

He puts his hands in his pockets and kicks the floor.

"Jemma."

She ignores his plea, because this isn't a mission, or an assignment. This is permanent, and it feels like she's been stabbed in the heart. She feels the tears forming, and she struggles to control herself.

"Fitz, I . . . you can't. You can't go."

She dares to look up and finds that he raised his eyes at the same time.

"What," she says, "you're surprised? What did you think I would say?"

He's back to not looking at her, hands clasped together.

"I thought you'd be pleased."

She folds her arms.

"Pleased."

He shrugs.

"You . . ." he shakes his head, "I . . . I'm . . ."

"You're not useless, Fitz. I already told you."

"Maybe not, but you don't want me around. So I'll go."

He says it casually, like it's common knowledge, like he expects her to have come to this conclusion already. Her head is spinning, trying to find some way to justify his words, trying to remember something she said that could possibly make him think that he's not her best friend anymore.

He shrugs with one shoulder.

"You took a mission at HYDRA just to get away from me, Jemma." He's trying to say it like it's a joke, but she can still hear the pain in his voice. "I don't want you to have to . . . to have to put yourself in danger, because of me. You're better off without me around." 

She stares at him, blinking, because it's been over a month since she got back. It's been weeks since he asked her why she left. She expected a thousand things from him, but not this. Not  _now_.

 "I've been trying to stay out of your way, but I don't think it's enough."

"Enough?" She pinches the bridge of her nose, but the tears won't stop. "Fitz, how long have you been planning this?"

He kicks the floor again.

"Fitz, how long?"

This is all her fault, she decides. Maybe if she hadn't kept her distance, or if she'd been brave enough to explain herself, maybe then he'd stay. Everything she's done since the moment that underwater window blew is wrong, wrong, wrong.

"When I realized you weren't visiting your parents."

"Fitz."

"I knew I had to get better first, or no one would take me. But now I am, so . . ."

"Don't do this, Fitz."

She doesn't have a right to say it, but she says it all the same.

"It's good for me too, you know. They don't know who I was . . . who I was before, so they won't look at me and expect . . . someone else."

"Don't do this for me, Fitz. Please."

His eyes are shining with their own tears, and she notices a few wet spots on the floor in front of him.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I probably would have dropped out of the academy, if it weren't for you."

"Fitz . . ."

"Best ten years of my life. I'll always be grateful for that."

"Fitz, please."

Was this how he felt when she opened the hangar door? When he pounded on the glass and screamed her name?

"It's the best gift I can give you, Jemma. You've done so much for me. Let me . . . let me do this."

"No."

"Please, Jemma."

She should grab him, or hug him, or tie him down, or something. She has to stop him, she has to.

He smiles at her again, the same smile as the last one he gave her before they broke, and he's out the door before she can stop him.

"No," she whispers to the empty room.

***

She fidgets as she stands outside his door, picking at her fingers and listening to the sounds of him packing. She's trying to gather the courage to knock, but she's been there for an eternity by now, and she still can't do it. But she can't leave, either. She's stuck there.

When the door opens, she looks at him like it'll be the last time, because she knows it could be. She's forcing the air into her lungs, forcing the corners of her mouth into a smile, but he has to see right through her, because he stands there and waits.

"Do you think," she finally says, staring at her trembling fingers, "do you think Stark would take me, too?"

**Author's Note:**

> I may have fudged the dates a little bit to make this story work. Artistic license.


End file.
